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LIFE_OF_HOMER

                                              February 17, 2007
   Homer Evans, hero of a series    
   of books by Elliot Paul, is a    
   man with a routine.              
                                    
   His companion Miriam            
   awakens first, and begins     Miriam is a stateusque
   playing the piano.            American blonde, who
                                 doubles as a body guard:
   Homer arises, and when        she was pistol champion
   he's ready, raises a flag     of Montana.
   on the pole outside the
   window, a signal to the
   barber down stairs that
   he's ready to be shaved --
   this takes place in Paris,
   incidentally.
                                      To quote:
      Evans has come to the           TAKEN_LIGHTLY
      conclusion that striving
      is futile, and prefers to          He's supposed to be a cosmopolitan
      take things easy -- most           intellectual, a gastronomic expert,
      of the time.                       a genius-level detective.

      It's not clear what he             He's inclined to lecture a bit, in a
      does for money, it does            discursive way, with a calm,
      not appear that he has             indolent, philosophical attitude.
      any need to do anything...

      During World War II he
      did something-or-other
      for military intelligence
      (a popular occupation for       E.g. Carr's
      fictional detectives in         Gideon Fell
      wartime).
                                     
         There does not appear to be          
         anything that he isn't good at--     
         at one point he chose to do a        
         portrait painting to see if he       
         could, and succeeded superbly,                                  
         to the supreme annoyance of his      ("The Mysterious Mickey Finn")     
         artist friends.                                                         
                                                                                
         There are few subjects he doesn't      
         know thoroughly-- though one of the    
         stories involves Egyptology, and a     
         running joke throughout is that        
         Evans is mortified to realize he       
         doesn't know anything about it.        
                                                
              So, what we have here is         
              a point along a curve           HIPSTERISM
              between Philo Vance and      
              and Our Man Flint.            His habitual indolence --
                                            except when prodded by
                                            events-- seems to put 
                                            him somewhere between the
                                            British Gentleman and the
                                            Lazy Beatnik.



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